


Postcards to Haven: One Month Out (A Moment in New Orleans)

by Jadzibelle



Series: Postcards to Haven [1]
Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Multi, References to drinking as a coping mechanism, References to nightmares, References to past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5544323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzibelle/pseuds/Jadzibelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One month out, and they were starting to find their rhythm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postcards to Haven: One Month Out (A Moment in New Orleans)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serendipityxxi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityxxi/gifts).



One month out, and they were starting to find their rhythm.

It had taken a little work.  It turned out, going from an environment of non-stop catastrophe and the threat of impending death where survival  _depended_ on being constantly in each other’s space fairly directly into a situation where nobody had anything they were absolutely required to do (except, well, Duke, because he was the one who knew how to run the boat, which was somewhat relevant to the process of sailing off into the sunset- or sunrise, as the case may be, they were originally supposed to be headed east, and they’d had that argument no fewer than four times, mostly because Audrey thought it was funny that he got ‘pedantic’ about it and Nathan encouraged anything that made Audrey laugh) and co-habitating in a space substantially smaller than the _entire town of Haven_ (even if the Rouge was technically bigger than Audrey’s apartment or Nathan’s house) was not actually as smooth a transition as fairy tales and Hollywood movies would lead one to believe.

Audrey got restless, needed something to _do_.  Nathan swung wildly between the gripping panic of not wanting either of them out of sight, and wanting actual space and quiet.  Duke wasn’t exactly used to  _sharing_ the Rouge, the way he was sharing her now, and was perhaps not always diplomatic (okay, fine, he’d been kind of a dick, it was a thing, he was working on it) about rearranging things to suit the new situation.  They _all_ slept poorly, at first, nights when they were all together inevitably leading to people startling violently awake at an accidental touch, nights when they slept apart inevitably leading to someone waking up screaming-- when Audrey had nightmares, she woke up not knowing who she was, or certain she’d done them some terrible injury in her sleep; Nathan refused point-blank to say a word about his dreams, just got up and found something to do afterwards, wouldn’t even consider going back to bed; Duke… well, Duke could usually tell when a night was going to be a bad one, and it was his boat, he could keep a bottle of whiskey on the bedside if he wanted to, at least keep himself quiet enough not to wake anyone.  Audrey snooped, Nathan left clothing in untidy heaps on the floor of the bathroom, they both complained about Duke’s casual indifference toward all the legal aspects of travel.  Duke discovered that somehow, he was the only one who could grasp the complex art of washing the damn dishes, and Audrey and Nathan had a throw-down, screaming, snarling _fight_ over  _something_ (Duke had missed the beginning of it, and by the time he’d gotten them settled at opposite ends of the boat, neither one of them had the faintest fucking idea what they’d been yelling about to start with, and Duke had been _mightily unimpressed_ ).

It hadn’t been _easy_ , was the point.

But they were adjusting.  At the end of the first week, when they’d put into port in Charleston, Duke had hired some people he knew from back in the day, paid them double to get things _done_ , and by the time they _left_ Charleston three days later, the interior space was divided up very differently- he’d had to give up a reasonable chunk of one of his (many) storage rooms, but there were three bedrooms all strung together, all connected.  Everyone had the option for privacy, but nobody was cut off.  Audrey and Nathan were polite enough not to point out that it was maybe a slightly impractical use of space, and it  _did_ make sleeping a little easier.  There were fewer nights when they _all_ woke miserable, anyway- and there was a certain satisfaction in watching Nathan and Audrey start to personalize their rooms.  It was cautious, right at first- a handful of things picked up last minute in Charleston, a few more pulled from storage or picked up in other towns down the coast- but it was clear that they both felt better, knowing they had somewhere to retreat to.

By the second week, both Audrey and Nathan were shadowing Duke at the controls; Nathan had experience on boats, knew a lot of the basics, but Audrey was a raw beginner and learning kept her busy.  A few pointed comments and Audrey had also taken over the laundry, while Nathan had made a basic effort to start tidying here and there.  Duke was still wholly in charge of the kitchen, but he resented it less when he wasn’t also responsible for all the other chores.  Even if he did have to bite his tongue a few times when it came to differences of procedure.

By the third week, they were starting to move around each other in a more settled way; Duke didn’t jump when Audrey touched him unexpectedly, Nathan didn’t go stiff and uncertain when Duke brushed past him, Audrey didn’t spend as much time with her arms crossed protectively over her middle like she was afraid of what might crawl out if she didn’t.  They spent three nights in New Orleans that week, just because they could, because Nathan had always wanted to go.  Duke bought a second-hand guitar from a music shop he found, Audrey bought a dress that nearly gave Nathan a stroke, and Nathan bought a truly ridiculous number of spice mixes that he insisted were _not_ gifts even as he handed them over to Duke for proper care and handling.

On the third night, they went dancing, because Audrey asked.  She wore the dress; Nathan spent most of the night tripping over his own feet for reasons that had nothing at all to do with still getting used to being able to feel them.  Duke spent most of the night trying very hard not to grin like an idiot at Nathan tripping over his own two feet.  When they got back to the Cape Rouge at half past two in the morning, Audrey with an arm around each of their waists and a ridiculously oversized magnolia blossom tucked behind one ear, Nathan quiet and easy and _smiling_ with one arm over Audrey’s shoulders and the back of his fingers brushing Duke’s side, Duke humming quietly to himself and only keeping a _slightly_ wary eye out on the streets they walked through, it felt like maybe they were all just _people_ after all, like maybe they could figure this out.

So when they stopped in Corpus Christi to make final preparations before they headed down to Mexico, Duke took a minute while they were resupplying, bought a postcard with a picture of a sunny beach and palm trees on it, and wrote a quick note.

_So far, so good._

They did have a few people back in town who’d probably like to know they were doing okay.  Dwight would pass it along where it needed to go.

He had a vacation to get back to.


End file.
